My earliest memory is of holding up a sparklerHigh up to the darkest skySome 4th of July spectacularI shook it with an urgencyI'll never ever be able to repeatAt times I might could be accused of beingPainfully nostalgicBut as of late I'm looking forward to the futureThough I've never been much of a plannerThrowing caution into the fanCatch as catch as those catchers canAnd so all you observers in your scrutinyDon't count my scars like tree ringsMy jigsaw disposition, it's piecemeal propertiesAre either smoked or honey curedBy the panic pure